


Being King Anyway

by wordyanansi



Series: No Desire To Be King [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:44:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordyanansi/pseuds/wordyanansi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future fic for "No Desire To Be King", dedicated to Wright.</p><p>Basically, what happens when Queen Clarke and Bellamy, son of Aurora, get married and procreate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being King Anyway

It seems too easy, but when Clarke tells her best friend, Wells, that she's going to marry Bellamy, he says "awesome, nice choice," like he didn't know how pathetic she has been about him for over a decade.   
Later, she tells her advisors, Kane, Wells, and his father, Thelonious, Kane grins like she's done something clever and tactical. Like the way he'd grinned when she had announced her coded messaging system to communicate with troops. Thelonious nods sagely.  
"The warrior queen marries the hero of the land they sing about in drinking establishments," Kane says. "Queen of the people, more fierce than before." Clarke's not quite sure what to say to that.   
"But he's a farmer," she says weakly.  
"He's a terrible farmer. It's more dirt than plant," Thelonious says dryly. "I don't think anyone will mistake Bellamy for a farmer." Clarke stares at Thelonious, her mind trying to catch up.

"How do you... you've been to the farm?" Clarke asks. There is fear there, of how easily someone might have found out about Octavia, how invasive her advisors could be.

"Of course. You clearly trust the man, and it's my job to make sure that the people you trust are worthy," Thelonious says. She looks over at Wells, who is wincing. He knew. She sighs.

"Right," Clarke says dryly. "Of course. Silly me thinking the fact that he has saved the kingdom several times was enough information."

"General Miller approves of him," Kane adds. "And he's liked by the troops. Better Bellamy than that idiot Prince Finn who's been sniffing around again." Clarke closes her eyes for a moment and tries to keep calm. She knew decisions like this are mercenary to them, but it's worse than she expected.

"Public opinion is that he's got brains as well as braun. And your kids will be incredibly attractive," Wells adds, trying to be funny. It's not funny. Clarke's really glad she didn't make Bellamy come with her to this meeting. But she does wish she hadn't sent him back to the farm to tidy up the loose ends before coming back. She could use him after this, inhaling his scent, feeling the strength of him beside her. But he wasn't there and she'd face worse before.

"Honestly, getting married is a great idea," Thelonious says "We've been saying this for years. Stability, it's the one thing you lack as a young queen. And, of course, heirs. You need to establish a line of succession." Kane nods.

"Yes, a line of succession is vital. Particularly if you keep insisting on risking your life every time there is a battle," Kane says. Wells says nothing, but Clarke reads the look on his face, his agreement with the fellow advisors, and his apology for thinking it.

"We aren't even married yet, you could stop thinking about the line of succession. Besides, we have a line of succession," Clarke points out. Wells snorts.

"The line of succession is a joke. Your cousins are assholes," Wells tells her. "You know this." Clarke tried not to pull a face.

"Public opinion says civil war if Murphy takes the throne," Kane adds. Thelonious nods his agreement and Clarke rolls her eyes.

"Fine. But can I at least marry the guy before you guys start focussing on my still hypothetical offspring," Clarke asks, tired. "Three weeks long enough to plan a wedding?" Thelonious asks Kane. Kane nods.

"Absolutely. I've had the decorations since her coronation. Her dressmaker has a wedding dress design ready to go. And it's long enough for us to get invitations out to foreign dignitaries. We should make it five weeks though. We know Queen Lexa will be difficult if we make it too fast," Kane comments. Thelonious nods.

"Quite right," he says. "I'll send out the invitations tomorrow. Wells, can you check the ceremony guidelines for a wedding where the Queen is marrying a commoner?"

"Of course. But I have an outline written already, I did it after the Battle of Mount Weather," Wells says. Clarke stares at them in shock.

"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt," she begins. "But this is my wedding, isn't it? Do I get a say?"

"No," all three say in unison. "Sorry," Wells adds. Clarke takes a moment to process what's happening and decides she's better off not knowing.

"Right then, let me know when I'm needed for a dress fitting," she says, and leaves the room.

  
  
  


Bellamy arrives five days later (two days early) on a horse that looks pissed off, and it suits him down to the ground. Kane and Thelonious had tried to arrange for some fanfare, but Bellamy had skirted them and arrived unnoticed, except by her. She was walking in the garden, looking at the old sea road, trailed by guards, when she sees him. He hasn't dismounted, and she's looking forward to finding out how he managed to get this far on horseback unassailed because that is a serious breach in security they're going to need to take care of. He grins when he sees her, and she can't help but smile back. It's never been this easy before, she's never been allowed to just be happy he's there. But there is no beast or battle. There's just him, grinning at her. He dismounts, clicks his tongue at the horse to order him to stay, and then crosses to face her. His arms twitch, as if he's unsure if he's allowed to touch her.

"Hi," he says, nervous, as if she would have changed her mind in less than a week. Clarke can't help the small laugh that escapes her.

"Hi," she says, stepping into his body. His arms wrap around her, pressing her against him, her nose buried in his shoulder. "I missed you," she offers quietly. He sighs, one long exhale, relaxing against her.

"I missed you too. Obviously. I'm early," he says, and she loves how he's awkward now, like he thinks she’ll change her mind. She laughs softly.

"I figured. Or, you know, the Oracle told you that you were needed early," Clarke says. He pulls back to laugh.

"Yeah, I think the Oracle was more concerned with getting me out of the house. Apparently I was very difficult to live with when I could have been with you," he confesses. She screws up her nose, then stands on her toes to kiss him.

 

"Turns out we're getting married in five weeks," Clarke says after the kiss ends. He raises his eyebrows.

"That's kind of fast, isn't it?" Bellamy asks. And then he looks horrified. "Not that I don't want to be married to you as soon as possible." Clarke shakes her head.

"Turns out they've been planning a wedding since my coronation. Wells has even had a ceremony outline of my marriage to you since Mount Weather. Also, we need to secure the line of succession. And hey, you're a good catch. Hero of the land. Brains and brawn," Clarke informs him. He laughs.

"So I'm not just an orphan farmer?" he teases, and she rolls her eyes. He sobers.

"Hey, it sounds like they're putting you under a lot of pressure to do this thing. But we don't have to rush it if you don't want to," Bellamy tells her softly. Clarke twists her mouth into a smirk.

"I'm kind of excited, actually," she confesses. And he laughs, and hugs her tighter to him.

  
  


 

Octavia arrives the week before the wedding, and she's probably the most beautiful person Clarke's ever seen. Trailing just behind her left shoulder is possibly the largest man she's ever seen. She's also pretty sure she's never been more nervous to meet someone. She watches them approach along the old sea road, and Bellamy bounces beside her, barely able contain the excitement to see his sister again after such a separation. Clarke can't help but feeling bad that she's taking him away from her, but she knows it's his choice, and he'd be so annoyed if he knew she was thinking that. But it's still a thought. In the end, she knocks her shoulder against his.

"Go on, then," she says softly, and he grins at her like he's never been happier, and then runs towards his sister. Octavia greets her with laughter and a smirk, still holding onto Bellamy's hand.

"So," she says, looking her up and down. "You're Queen Clarke." Clarke inclines her head and bobs into a half curtsey her mother taught her to use when you greeted equals.

"You must be Octavia," Clarke replies, smiling. "It's a pleasure and an honour to meet you." And she means it. Honestly, Clarke wasn't sure she'd even risk coming to the castle for the wedding, but here she was, like it was nothing. Octavia laughs.

"You didn't say she was funny," Octavia says to her brother, and then she smiles back at Clarke. "So princes must be real ugly around these parts if you're settling for this dork." Bellamy winces and moves to chastise his sister, and her towering fiance covers his laugh with a polite cough, but Clarke laughs.

"He's such a dork," Clarke agrees. "He's also stubborn and grumpy." Bellamy groans and Octavia laughs again.

"It's not like I didn't know I was going to approve of this, but I totally approve of this," Octavia announces. "But we walked for three days. I need a bath. And a nap." Bellamy's frowning.

"We could have sent a horse and carriage, O," he scolds her. His sister rolls her eyes.

"Can we do this later? I'm kind of tired," she says, and Clarke gestures to one of the castle staff who escorts them to their rooms. It's not until they're gone that she realises that the man didn't speak. When she asks Bellamy about it, he shrugs.

"That's just Lincoln. He doesn't say much. I think he probably doesn't see the point in words for the sake of talking," Bellamy tells her. Clarke smiles to herself and wonders if she could convince a few members of her court to adapt Lincoln's philosophy.

 

The next day, Octavia, trailed by Lincoln, throws open the door to Clarke's sleeping chambers and announces they have a problem. Clarke sits up and takes a minute to try and process what's happening.

"A problem?" Clarke asks. Octavia nods.

"The dryads aren't happy. There's a curse from like a hundred years ago about a commoner marrying a queen. It's not even legitimate, but they're all up in arms and they're going to start killing people who enter the forest in the East," Octavia tells her. Clarke stares for a moment. It's not like she's never had to face a mythical beast before, but it's definitely the first time someone has spoken about dryads.

"Tree spirits, right?" Clarke asks for clarification, her brain slowly catching up. Octavia nods. "Killing people who enter the forest?" Octavia nods again. And then Clarke pauses. "But... Bellamy's not a commoner. I mean, he's a farmer, technically, but, the day we met, he said he was the child of a god," Clarke says. Octavia stares at her for a moment.

"I didn't think about that," she says. And then she looks at Lincoln. "You didn't think of that either." Lincoln shrugs, and Clarke smiles. "Liking you more and more, Queen Clarke," Octavia tells her. "But we don't know which god, and Bell's got no interest in finding out. It's going to be a tough sell."

"Well we can rule out the females, and the party gods," Clarke says, thinking. Lincoln actually cracks a smile. Clarke's not sure there's an achievement she should be more proud of.

"The dryads will not take our word. The god must be found, or we go to war," Lincoln says. Clarke sighs.

"Well, you better go get Bellamy then," Clarke says. "And tell him he's got a choice to make." Octavia tilts her head to the side.

"He'll be here in three minutes anyway. But I have to warn you, if you postpone the wedding, it will be taken as weakness and indecision. The neighboring countries will not respect the marriage and there will be war. You must get married on schedule," Octavia tells her. And Clarke thinks she's getting it, the difference in her voice when she's the Oracle to when she's just Octavia. And then Octavia shifts on her feet.

"You do love him, don't you? Really love him? I feel like it's not wise to threaten to break you if you break his heart, being that you're royalty. But he's... he's my brother," Octavia asks, but it sounds like a challenge. Lincoln rests a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't you know?" Clarke asks softly. Octavia rolls her eyes.

"I'm not all-knowing, believe it or not. Bellamy's the same. Can't believe I didn't know something was a bad idea. I get dreams and echoes from the future. It's not like I knew I was going to trip on a tree root and break my leg," Octavia rants, and Clarke is smiling again. She's still a little scared of Octavia, but she likes her, genuinely.

"I love your brother. I've known it since the first beast we killed together. It rolled on him after he dropped on it for above. I thought he'd died," Clarke tells her. "I was heartbroken when he left without saying goodbye. I knew he wouldn't stay, but..." Octavia nods.

"Yeah, I get that. I did know you loved him, but it's still... there's a difference between Oracle-knowing and Octavia-knowing, you know?" Octavia says, and it's almost an apology. But Clarke nods.

"I can understand that," Clarke agrees, thinking of times it has broken her heart to issue edicts for the good of all that hurt a few. Of the times she has known what she must do, even when she didn't know in her heart. There is a lot she will never understand about being an Oracle, but there is plenty about Octavia she can relate to.

 

"Something going on?" Bellamy asks, entering the room. He gives Lincoln a nod, that the other man returns, and then kisses his sister's head, and smiles at Clarke.

"The dryads are revolting," Octavia says, shortly. Bellamy's mouth twitches, and Clarke knows he's about to be a dork.

"That’s not very polite, O. It’s hardly their fault they smell like moss, is it?" Bellamy teases. Octavia hits him, hard, in the chest, and he stumbles back, laughing a little, and rubbing the bruise.

"You're such a dork," Octavia tells him dryly. "Want to go kill the dryads or find your god-father?" Bellamy winces.

"Is there a third option?" Bellamy asks. Octavia shakes her head.

"You're lucky you're marrying such a smart lady, or there would be no second option," Octavia informs him. Bellamy looks at Clarke, and then back to his sister. His jaw tightens. Clarke can see that he hates this, and she's never seen this part of him before. She watches him shut down, fold into himself, and she's not sure what to do next. She knows how to fight beside him, plan beside him, strategise beside him... but there is so much she doesn't know of the man she is marrying in a week.

"We can fight the dryads," Clarke offers softly. "I don't want to, but we can."

"The forest will suffer without them, but it will survive," Lincoln says, and it's such a solid statement, and Clarke clings to it. That they can survive this, that it would be a thing that wouldn't be catastrophic. Octavia stares at her brother.

"Bell," Octavia says after a moment.

"Shut up," Bellamy says. "I don't want this."

"I know," Octavia says.

"You will always be remembered as the son of Aurora," Clarke tells him. Bellamy looks at her, surprised. "My father knew you as the son of Aurora, my council, the armies, the people of this land know you as the son of Aurora. That will never change." Her eyes don't leave Bellamy, but she can see Octavia nod approvingly out of the corner of her eye.

"When you know, you will look at me differently," Bellamy says quietly. Even Octavia starts at this.

"You knew and you never told me?" she asks, hurt and fury lacing her tone. Bellamy shakes his head.

"She told me not to tell anyone. And when she told me... I didn't want to tell anyone," he says quietly. And then he looks at Clarke, sorrow in his eyes. "I will understand if you don't want to marry me when you know." Clarke looks at him for a moment, and then snorts.

"You're such an idiot, Bellamy, son of Aurora. What do I care who your father is? I love you for who you are and have proven yourself to be, not for who sired you," Clarke says dismissively.

"You really are melodramatic," Octavia adds, folding her arms and shaking her head. Bellamy looks between them for a moment and then sighed, preparing himself.

"Erebus," he says quietly to the floor. "God of darkness and shadow." There is a moment of silence while everyone processes.

"Well I did not see that one coming," Octavia says, and then Clarke snorts with laughter, and Octavia, realising what she's just said joins in. The men look between them, confused.

"Nevermind," Clarke says, waving away their concern. "Bellamy, find Wells, tell him to send word to the dryads. You aren't a commoner, you're a demigod. And if you all could leave, I'd like to get dressed now." Octavia and Lincoln leave, talking about breakfast, but Bellamy waits, hovering in the doorway.

"It doesn't bother you?" Bellamy asks quietly. "My father? I'm a monster." Clarke shakes her head.

"You're a hero, my hero. And as far as I can tell it only makes you a better man for being you," Clarke tells him. Bellamy smiles at her.

"I don't deserve you, you know?" Bellamy says, tender. Clarke smiles.

"Yeah, you do," Clarke replies. "Now go find Wells so I can get dressed."

  
  


The wedding goes off without a hitch, and the feasting goes long into the night. All the expected dignitaries turned up and were polite and jovial, the dryads didn't start killing people (delighted to the keepers of a royal secret), and no one found out about Octavia's secret. They leave the day after the wedding, and Clarke is sad to see her and Lincoln go, though she knows they must. Bellamy walks a little down the road with them, trailed by bodyguards now he was king. He kept trying to tell them to go away, but it never worked. Clarke had it on good authority that serving as King Bellamy, son of Aurora, hero and beast slayer's bodyguard was a highly sought after position. General Miller had many young men desperate to be assigned to him, worshipping him for past accomplishments. Clarke had laughed and told him that it probably was for the best to send the younger men, that it would make them better soldiers. A week later, General Miller found her in the gallery and informed her that all of Bellamy's bodyguards had learned to stand straighter, hold their weapons better, and spar more fiercely than his other recruits. Clarke asked him not to tell Bellamy this to preserve her from his ego. But the general and Bellamy took to spending time together, walking in the barracks and surveying the recruits.

 

Two years after their marriage, the line of succession was secured with a son, that they named Jacob, for her father. The following year, Octavia and Lincoln arrived in a cart with two small children (Iskander and Cassandra) to warn them of a new threat from the northern borders. Someone was sending monsters into the land, and the northern kingdom was pushing its borders further south as the beasts advanced.

"As it was done in the first, so it must be again," Octavia/Oracle said. Bellamy scowled.

"You came all this way with a useless riddle. What does that even mean?" Bellamy asked, bouncing Jacob on his knee. Octavia rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I delivered the message. It's your job to figure it out," Octavia said defensively, folding her arms.

"The first," Clarke says, and then she reaches over and touches Bellamy's arm. "I imagine it refers to the first monster we killed. You and me, alone, on an adventure." Bellamy frowns.

"You were not Queen then, and I was not King. We can't just abandon court at the same time without an entourage. We can't even go for a picnic in our own garden without an entourage," Bellamy says. "And we did not have a child."

"And she wasn't pregnant," Octavia points out. Clarke winces and Bellamy stares at her. She’d been meaning to tell him… it just hadn’t come up yet.

"You're not going," he says, shaking his head. Clarke moves to protest, but he holds up a hand. "You are not going while you are pregnant, we are not leaving our son without parents, and you are not marching into danger and sleeping on the forest floor while you are pregnant."

"Bellamy, it's the only way to save the kingdom and kill the beast," Clarke says, gentle. "It has to be done." Bellamy shakes his head.

"I won't allow it," Bellamy says. "And I doubt anyone else on the council will either," he adds, before standing, taking Jacob with him, and exiting the room. Clarke sighs.

"I will go to him," Lincoln says softly, and then follows him out of the room, both his children on a hip.

"They're such good fathers," Clarke comments. Octavia hums in agreement.

"The first time he left, I knew he'd be fine. Oracle knew. Knew you'd go with him too. But I didn't tell him. The gift... sometimes it tells you what not to say," Octavia says. "But, gods, I thought he'd die or never come back. Our mother had died not three months earlier and I thought that I didn't know how to be without him. I learned. But I was so relieved when he came back. Relieved he was alive and I wasn't alone. I knew he'd go again, but it was better after that first time." Clarke listens thoughtfully. She can't imagine being sixteen, and being alone in the world, and having something that people would hurt her for. But Octavia has a ferocity that lives in her heart, isn't just learned.

"I thought I'd never see him again when he left that first time," Clarke offers. "But after... my parents. And he told me he'd always be there when I needed him, told me about you. It felt wrong that he wouldn't come back. But he was always leaving. I'd forget until it was over. I knew why he had to go, and I didn't begrudge you. We both had responsibilities we couldn't leave. And this... this risk is another responsibility where we are asked to put others before ourselves." Octavia smiles.

"You would die proud in the service of your kingdom," Octavia replies, approving. "To be royal is to serve. It's what makes you so great. Bellamy... he's not a king first. He's your husband and my brother, and he will do what he must, but risking us is agony to him. He fights it because he does not understand that he's a king first now. He will learn." Clarke smiles softly and nods.

"Why do I feel like I don't survive this one?" Clarke asks. "I've never felt like this before, and it has killed more than one man on the battlefield." Octavia smiles sadly.

"There are things I can not tell you," she says. Clarke nods, thoughtfully. Octavia reaches out and takes her hand.

"You and Bellamy will survive this fight," Octavia says. "But you will not be unchanged." Clarke nods, a lump thick in her throat.

"I assume that means you know he'll come around then," Clarke says, trying to force some humour into her voice. Octavia laughs.

"Lincoln can be persuasive. But I've no doubt you'd just threaten to go without him and he'd give in," Octavia teases. Clarke grins at her sister in law, grateful for her.

"Will you stay? While we're gone, I mean. I know it is risk for you. But Jacob... He does not see his cousins enough, and I don't want him to live in the nurseries," Clarke asks. Octavia nods.

"I will," Octavia agrees. "We left Lincoln's sister and her husband to look after the farm." Clarke nods her thanks as Bellamy and Lincoln re enter the room.

"I hate this," Bellamy says, stubborn, arms folded, glaring at the two women. "But I'm aware that I don't get a say because you're the Oracle, and not only are you Queen, you'd just go and do follow me anyway," he adds, indicating the two women. Clarke and Octavia exchange a grin.

"We leave tomorrow. Just the two of us, as it was," Bellamy grinds out. "But I don't like it."

"You never like anything," Octavia teases him.

 

Three days later, Clarke is forced to admit that travelling while three months pregnant and fighting beasts is not ideal. And Bellamy is driving her mental. He's constantly henpecking her, making sure it's not too heavy or the ground's not too hard or the horse isn't jolting her too much. She's really ready to go home just to end the nagging. But then they stumble upon the beasts, two of them, the same kind as the first one they faced.

"Well shit," Bellamy says, surveying the plains and the two armour plated beasts. "No trees for dropping."

"No ground cover," Clarke adds. "And there's two of them." Bellamy sighs.

"We have to assume the second one will rush us when we attack the first," Bellamy points out.

"Well, this will be interesting," Clarke grins, drawing her sword.

"We draw them to the trees and then drop from above," Bellamy says, drawing his own sword. "I'll bait them, you climb the tree." Clarke shakes her head.

"I'm faster, I'll bait them," she argues.  Bellamy raises her eyebrows.

"If you think I'm letting my pregnant wife run in front of two armour plated beasts, you've clearly lost your mind," Bellamy says.

"Oh, but you'll let your pregnant wife climb a tree and drop onto the armour plated beasts? Remember how last time you nearly got crushed?" Clarke challenges.

"I'd rather my pregnant wife not insist on going into battle with armour plated beasts at all," Bellamy snaps. "But seeing as I don't have a choice in the matter, I think you'll be better off in the tree. Aim between the plates, and roll the opposite way and you'll be fine. Back of the neck. While you're doing that I'll get the other." Clarke licks her lips, thinking.

"Okay. Fine. But if you get trampled I'm going to be so pissed at you," Clarke warns him. Bellamy rolls his eyes and then grabs her to him for a scorching kiss.

"Good luck," he says before taking off. Clarke rolls her eyes and heads for the trees.

 

The beasts go down more quickly than expected. It's fast and bloody, and Clarke is so barely scathed she can't quite believe it. And the she realises she can't see Bellamy. She screams for him, searching the area, and it's minutes before she hears his muffled voice. She stares for a moment in shock at the sight of him, covered in the blood of the beast and trapped underneath it. She tries to stay calm as she pulls at his exposed arm, but it doesn't work, and she can't leverage the beast using her sword, so she begins to hack it up. It's slow and hard work, and she tries not to sob, because crying would take energy she doesn't have to waste. In her mind, she keeps begging for him not to die, despite Octavia's words, and out loud she keeps up a monologue, talking to him about how he's an idiot, and she can't wait to tell their kids this story. He doesn't say much back, but Clarke keeps talking anyway. In the end, she manages to hack away enough so she can pull him out, and he screams in agony as his feet finally pull free. Clarke looks down in horror at the sight of his right foot, completely crushed. She has enough medical training to know that he's never walking on that foot again, not without help. Bellamy looks up at her, searching her face for answers. And he reads how bad it is before she can say anything.

"I'll live," he says through gritted teeth. "But if the pain doesn't ease I might wish I hadn't." Clarke snorts, because he's ridiculous and looks around for leaves to chew that will ease the pain. She finds some and gives them to him. They sit, leaning against a tree trunk and each other, staring at the two dead beasts.

"Well, it could have gone worse," Bellamy comments.

"It could have gone better," Clarke counters. Bellamy knocks her shoulder with his.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. Clarke frowns. "For my foot." She scoffs.

"So you should be. Idiot. Like you chose it. Don't be stupid. The main thing is you're alive," Clarke says. And then she chews her lip. "Do you think Octavia knows to send help so we can get back?" Bellamy shrugs.

"And if she does, who could she tell?" Bellamy asks, and Clarke winces, because it's true. It's so common in her life that Octavia is an Oracle that she forgets that she's not meant to be sometimes.

"We're not going to make it back before Wells sends out a search party," Clarke says. "Maybe we should just wait?" Bellamy shakes his head.

"It'll be worse if I don't get to a doctor. And I want you checked out. I'm pretty sure you're not meant to jump out of trees and slay beasts when you're with child," he says, his voice edged with humour. Clarke shoves his shoulder.

"Dork," Clarke says fondly.

"You married me. You're a Queen. You had options," Bellamy teases her, and Clarke laughs a little.

"I love you," she says, resting her head on his shoulder. He leans his head against hers.

"I love you too," he whispers. "Can we sleep here tonight?" Clarke nods.

"Yeah, we can sleep here tonight."

  
  
  


They make it back to the palace before Wells sends out a search party. But they arrive, filthy, having left half their packs behind, and with Bellamy limping, his foot bound with bark and vines, Wells almost has a fit. Kane isn't far behind him, yelling for doctors and baths to be pulled. Thelonious is berating them for undertaking such a thing when they're meant to be ruling the land. Octavia welcomes them home with a long hug each. She cries softly into Bellamy's chest and he strokes her hair as he leans against a wall to take the weight of his foot.

"I'm so sorry," she mutters into his chest.

"It's okay," he says into her hair.

"I knew," she tells him, her voice breaking."I knew and I didn't warn you." Bellamy holds her tighter.

"I love you. It's okay. It wouldn't have changed anything," Bellamy tells her, and he doesn't let her go until the medical team arrive and force him onto a stretcher and take him to the medical wing. Clarke takes Octavia's hand for a moment before following her husband.

"He means it. We both love you. It's not your fault," Clarke says softly. Octavia nods and squeezes her hand.

"I'm glad it was you he married," Octavia says. Clarke cocks her head. "Alternate futures," she explained. "But you're what he needed, what we both did." Clarke pulls her against her.

"I'm really glad I met you," Clarke tells her fiercely before Wells taps her on the shoulder to lead her to the medical wing. She leaves Octavia standing tear stained but not beaten.

  
  


Aurora Abigail is born six months later, with eyes like black pools and hair that refuses to be tamed. She and her brother live at feet of their father. Bellamy moves around on a walking stick, limping on his braced foot, and they crawl after him, and then toddle, and then walk. Clarke can't be jealous of the way they cling to him. They laugh with delight when she picks them up and swings them around. There are least beasts, and new heroes. Raven, the daughter of Hephaestus finds them, and they convince her to move into the castle, giving her a workshop and resources she had only dreamed of. Jacob is seven when she arrives, and he grows up in the workshop, learning more than he does from his tutors. Aurora lives in the barracks with the soldiers, and Bellamy glares at the young men giving her fighting tips, and glares at General MIller for having a sword made for her. Clarke tells him to stop being overprotective, and he commissions Raven to build a bow, arrows, and a quiver for Aurora, and teachers her how to shoot. And then how to throw a spear. Swords can wait until she's a teenager, Bellamy warns, but he knows that she is getting lessons from Miller behind his back and says nothing. The new heroes are never humble, like the son of Aurora, but they do the job. Octavia arrives sometimes with warnings or advice, her family in tow. But sometimes she'll come because she misses her brother, though she claims it is to complain about the lack of decent warriors about. No one worries about the line of succession, least of Clarke, who sees her children grow up to be wise and kind first, understand what it is to serve. It is on Jacob’s seventeenth birthday, when he demands the servants feast with the nobles, that she knows that whatever the future holds, it is not for her to worry about any longer.  

  
And they live. It is not always easy, but they are always together. And that is what matters.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Wright,  
> Thank you for commenting on every fic I write, and for loving everything I write. You inspire me to keeping writing even when I feel untalented and stupid and unmotivated. You always have a million questions after I finish I fic, especially on my one-shots, and I so rarely follow up. So I wrote this to answer your questions.  
> I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Wordy.
> 
> PS - I hope everyone else enjoyed it too!


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